


Got My Ass Squeezed By Sexy Cupid

by DynamicDuo (XylB)



Series: Let's Play A LoveGame [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylB/pseuds/DynamicDuo
Summary: "Since when did you guys getpolesdown here?" Jason asks, staring in amazement at the three gleaming silver poles standing from floor to ceiling right in the middle of the Titans Tower basement gym - which is impressive in many other ways, including the wall of mirrors on both sides - but Jason's currently focused on thepoles."Dick installed them a few years ago," Roy answers, poking around with something on the keypad as Jason drops his duffle in the corner. There's even safety mats positioned under two of the poles. "We mostly used them for climbing practice.""Mostly?" Jason arches an eyebrow and catches sight of Roy's grin in the mirror."Mostly," he agrees, rolling his wrists in an impressively fluid move.
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Series: Let's Play A LoveGame [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181468
Comments: 1
Kudos: 82





	Got My Ass Squeezed By Sexy Cupid

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Lady Gaga's 'LoveGame'! Follow-up to [the previous in the series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685573)!
> 
> Batcest shippers do not interact.

"Another fucking _bust_." Jason scowls at the empty warehouse before fitting his helmet back on, clicking in unison with Roy's disappointed sigh. 

"Well, maybe next time," Roy says, craning his head to look up at the broken skylight. "Can't believe we wasted our cool entrance on that." This warehouse had seemed like a likely target at first - all the doors welded shut, all the windows similarly sealed, leaving the skylight as the only way in or out. Typical baddie behaviour. 

"Someone's tipping them off." Jason winds up his grappling hook and aims it at the edge of the skylight. 

Roy nods mutely and watches the hook fly out of the skylight and catch somewhere out of sight. Jason tugs on it experimentally - and must not deem it safe to lift them, because he pulls out a knife and cuts the end at the gun. The rope swings to vertical, the frayed edge just a few inches off the ground. Fucking climbing. Roy hates rope climbing. At least give him a wall to rappel up. 

"Want me to take the bow?" Jason asks, an apologetic tilt to his head. 

"Nah." Roy reaches back to pinch together the clips on his bow and quiver, securing them firmly to his back as Jason approaches the rope. "You go first, you're heavier." 

"Gee, thanks." 

"Don't worry, princess, I'll catch ya." 

The comms only pick up a trace of Jason's huffed laugh, but it makes Roy smile nonetheless, stepping forwards to spot Jason as he grabs the rope and jumps up to hook his legs around it. Roy glances around the warehouse again while Jason makes his way skywards with steady, timed contractions and flexes of his shoulders and calves. The rope is surprisingly strong, not even creaking with the weight of Jason's ammo, and when Roy looks up at him - 

Any thought to the strength of the rope flies out of his head at the sight of Jason wrapped around the rope. Has his ass always looked that great in tacts? Roy's mouth runs a little dry when Jason adjusts, pressing his thighs tight to the rope and using _that_ to hoist himself up instead of his calves. 

Roy is a weak, weak man. So he doesn't hear whatever Jason mumbles in his ear, too distracted by the flex of Jason's thighs underneath the trousers, underneath the holsters, to think of much else past a bucket list of things he'd love to explore later tonight, ideally in one of their beds. Ideally Roy's. 

" _Roy_ , you coming?" Jason asks impatiently, with a tone that tells Roy he's repeating himself. Roy shakes his head as if to cast away the incriminating, damning fantasies swirling in there - fails, a second later, when Jason stills on the rope, holds his position with a particularly hot squeeze of his thighs, and looks down at Roy, lifting a hand off the rope to beckon him up. He doesn't slip even an _inch_ without the grip. 

"I - yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Roy says, tearing his gaze from Jason to wrap his hands around the rough rope instead. "Don't fall on me." 

"Yeah, you wish." 

_Yeah, I do_ , Roy thinks as he starts to climb, glancing up every few feet to check their progress. And also quietly admire Jason's ass. 

And realise that Jason's clambering up a _lot_ faster than him. What the fuck. Maybe Roy should ask for lessons. 

But mostly to stare at his ass. 

\-- 

"Since when did you guys get _poles_ down here?" Jason asks, staring in amazement at the three gleaming silver poles standing from floor to ceiling right in the middle of the Titans Tower basement gym - which is impressive in many other ways, including the wall of mirrors on both sides - but Jason's currently focused on the _poles_. 

"Dick installed them a few years ago," Roy answers, poking around with something on the keypad as Jason drops his duffle in the corner. There's even safety mats positioned under two of the poles. "We mostly used them for climbing practice." 

"Mostly?" Jason arches an eyebrow and catches sight of Roy's grin in the mirror. 

"Mostly," he agrees, rolling his wrists in an impressively fluid move. 

He never does give Jason an answer for that, but while they stretch in amicable silence, Jason weighs up the poles in his mind and ends up caught between admitting it's a good idea for climbing practice, and knowing that the Titans aren't _that_ innocent. 

Either way, he's here to show Roy some of his climbing tricks, and he doesn't exactly have them all written out, so by the time they step up to the pole, he's forgotten all about his idle wondering of the poles' true purpose. 

"Well, from what I've seen, you've got the basic form down," Jason says, stepping up to grip the pole in demonstration, glancing at Roy when he nods. "And you've got the basic technique down, so don't worry about changing it too much." 

"I'm not gonna have to add friction pads to my armour, am I?" 

Jason shakes his head with a laugh. "Not unless you plan on climbing steel cables." 

Roy listens attentively while Jason explains a couple of his shortcuts, sketching them out with hand gestures in mid-air. Honestly, _teaching_ someone almost reminds him of home, passing on the fancy Robin-esque moves and the secret little tricks to keep Bruce on his toes even in the field. 

Except there's a lot less _flirting_ at home. Jason doesn't know how much of it Roy plans, and how much of it is just purely out of thin air, but there's a mischievous glint in Roy's smile and a quickness to his eyes that has Jason wary. Of what, he doesn't know, but it at least serves to make them laugh while Jason's still on the talking portion of the lesson. 

But there's only so much he can do with words. He switches to demonstrating pretty quickly, overlapping his hands on the pole to show Roy the movements he should mimic while climbing, and then eventually just gets onto climbing _himself_ , jumping up with a grunt to wrap his legs around the pole. It's deceptively slippery against the softer fabric of his sweats, but not totally impossible to stay on. 

"Obviously, your core is what keeps you up," Jason explains, shimmying up the pole a couple jumps to demonstrate. "But your thighs are the strongest muscle in your body, so you should rely on that as well to push yourself up - using your calves is decent, and takes less effort if you coordinate your shoulders with it, but if you just sort of - " he wiggles forward with a grunt to scoot the pole further towards his crotch, " - do _this_ , you'll go faster." 

He starts climbing up with this method to show instead of just tell, making sure to summarise out loud what he's doing every step so Roy can copy it on the other pole in a few minutes. When he gets near the ceiling, he lets himself slip down almost to the floor again, and start again, this time pausing to emphasise the position he's using - 

Halfway through his gesturing, one hand on the pole and one off, he realises Roy hasn't said a word for the past five minutes. Hasn't even made a sound of acknowledgement, not even a grunted _uh-huh_ in the back of his throat. 

He glances down. Roy is still looking at him, but not at his hand or his face. He's _staring_ , and his eyes are glued right to - 

Jason squeezes the pole experimentally. With his thighs. Roy's mouth parts just slightly, a movement Jason would have missed if he wasn't looking for it. 

Well, _that's_ interesting. 

\-- 

Jason's a good teacher. Really, he is, and Roy was happily absorbing his teaching and keeping silent notes on the new tips right up until Jason got _on_ the pole, and since then he hasn't been able to drag his eyes anywhere above the waist. 

He notices when Jason goes silent, though, and hurriedly rips his gaze up to his face, nodding like he's just heard and understood whatever the fuck Jason just said. Probably something about core muscles. Or about better grip. Or about momentum. Or about using his entire body. 

Man, Roy wants Jason to use his entire body. 

In reply, Jason grins and drops to the floor. 

"Your turn," he says, gesturing to the pole. "Climb it." 

Roy swallows and nods, hesitantly approaching the pole. He can do this. This is easy. This is just pulling himself up and climbing. Something he's done plenty of times, something he's done even with ripped stitches. There's no reason on earth that he should feel this weak just contemplating it. 

The surface mocks him with its gleam when he reaches out to it. The metal is welcomely cool against his palms, rigid under the flex of his fingers. Dominant hand on top, just like Jason said before. 

"Here, get a good grip on it," Jason says. Roy almost jumps at the sudden proximity of his voice, much closer than he expected. And then his _everything_ is much closer than expected, his chest warm against Roy's back as his arms loop around to put his hands over Roy's and adjust his grip. 

"I've heard that before," Roy retorts, smiling at Jason's snort. 

"I'm sure you've heard a lot of this before." Jason's chin settles on his shoulder. "Now get your legs in position." 

They both shake with a quiet laugh at that. Roy shuffles his bent knees out obediently, poised for the jump up to catch himself. Jason pushes his legs closer together with a hand, and then presses flush to his back, bracing his thighs right under Roy's to - 

Oh _god_ , his knees are gonna give out before he ever gets on the pole. Jason hums against his jaw, appraising Roy's positioning with a flutter of his hands over his body, and Roy's sure he would buckle if it weren't for his hold on the pole. 

"All yours," Jason says, and starts to _back up_ \- 

"Wait, wait, I can't - I can't climb this right now," Roy blurts out, squeezing the metal in his fist. "I can't, uh - " 

"I know." Jason's voice is wicked, dirty, pitched deep as the wall of heat returns at his back, as Jason's hands splay over Roy's inner thighs, pulling him back against his crotch. 

Roy glances up at the mirror to find Jason staring right back, a promising grin on his face. 

"Huh," he murmurs - uselessly, pathetically. He tries a winning smile. "When'd you figure it out?" 

"Somewhere between now and two minutes ago." Jason's laugh swings the words lower, a buzz through Roy's jawbone. "You locked the door, didn't you?" He adds. 

"Didn't want us to be disturbed." 

"Uh-huh. You wanted to practice _climbing_ in private." 

Roy doesn't manage to respond to that, because then Jason _squeezes_ his thighs, his fingers pressing indents into the thin fabric of Roy's basketball shorts. A shiver trips down his spine at the contact, legs automatically shuffling another inch wider to let Jason sweep his palms in. Lips land on his jaw just as fingers push down the elastic of the waistband, fingertips stroking over his hips in a distracting swirl that makes Roy's knees weak all over again. 

Jason sucks up a hickey just as he pushes his palm over Roy's underwear, cupping him through the fabric. His fingers wiggle down to curl around his balls, encouraging Roy to roll forward into the grind of the heel of his hand, just firm enough to get Roy hard without getting him close. He braces himself against the pole and drops his head to moan quietly, still rocking with slow, greedy thrusts to chase the all-encompassing _heat_ of Jason's hand. Then Jason _squeezes_ , and Roy huffs his name, mouth twitching into a smile when Jason chuckles and repeats the move, just how Roy likes it. 

Roy doesn't need to say anything for Jason to move on, hooking his thumbs in the shorts and tugging them down over his erection to snap around his thighs. The curve of finger and thumb fits against crease of crotch and thigh, holding Roy in place while Jason's other hand returns to toy with Roy over his underwear, tracing the edge of his nail up the length just to make Roy shiver and press backwards, trying to chase and escape the sensation all at once. He kind of loves how Jason's memorised all his sweet spots, loves the push-pull tandem of his mouth and hands moulding Roy like putty between them. 

Jason presses his hips against Roy's ass to push him closer to the pole, and normally Roy would make some sort of stupid pun about feeling a _different_ kind of pole behind him, but he's far too scattered to try and be coherent. Jason's kissing a slow, burning path down his neck and easing his underwear down to expose Roy to the cool air, rumbling a pleased noise against him when he takes him in hand. 

"Jason, holy _shit_ ," Roy pants, lifting his head to see the picture they make in the mirror, with Jason's hand firm around the base of his cock and his laughter in his ear, cocky and appreciative all at once. 

"Gotta make sure I get a good grip on it," Jason jokes, and gives Roy a tug that lands somewhere between friendly and mean. Roy hangs his head with a laugh and thrusts into the circle of Jason's fingers, sighing at the sheer _relief_. 

It doesn't last long. Jason pins him in place against his hips with his other hand and lifts his other, palm-up, just above Roy's dick. 

"Spit," he says, and Roy groans into nothing and obeys, gathering it up on his tongue to spit cleanly into Jason's palm. Jason swears quietly against his neck and folds his fingers over to get them wet, too, before returning to smear it down Roy's length. Roy gasps at the new cool, _wet_ touch, toes curling in his shoes. He licks his lips on instinct, catching the leftover string of spit trying to bead on his lower lip. 

Jason fists him slow, thorough, all the way from base to tip in one sweep that leaves Roy tingling, helpless to watch the head pop through the slick circle of Jason's fingers, to see the tendons in Jason's wrist flex when he adjusts the grip. He wants to collapse against the pole on instinct alone, wants to grind back against Jason, wants to drop to his knees, wants so _much_ it crawls over his skin like wildfire, like greed. Roy tilts his head to give Jason's mouth more room and pries a hand off the pole to reach back for him - 

Jason catches his wrist quicker than he can blink. 

"Hands on the pole," he says into Roy's ear, filthy and sweet and dangerous all at once. Roy sucks in an inhale so sharp it burns like ice all the way down into his lungs. 

"Hands on - yeah, _yeah_ , okay," he murmurs, holding on for dear life as Jason strokes him tortuously slow, leisurely, like he's got all the time in the world. 

Jason pauses at the head on the next upstroke, squeezing gently before settling his thumb on the tip and _rubbing_. Oh, Roy's not gonna fucking _make_ it. Jason rubs cruel circles over his slit, relentless even when Roy whimpers and buckles, hair sticking along the sweaty line of his cheek to tickle at the corner of his mouth, the back of his shirt plastered to him with both of their body heat. He bucks forward weakly, trying to encourage any other movement, but Jason stays on target like a fucking missile, teasing his thumb in a back-and-forth that makes Roy's head feel fuzzy, all his nerves dialled into that one hyper-sensitive touch. 

" _Jason_ ," he whimpers, can't help it, not when Jason's rubbing those damn _circles_ , firm and purposeful and - 

"Jesus," Jason whispers against his neck, when a bead of pre-come bubbles up to wet his thumb. Roy tucks a moan behind his teeth and shuts his eyes against the onslaught of sensation. 

Jason knows exactly what he's doing, and he knows exactly how much Roy loves it, and really Roy should be teasing him about so thoroughly exploiting this, but he's _helpless_ against it. Jason keeps circling until Roy's mimicking a leaky faucet, dripping steadily over Jason's thumb and down his knuckles, sticky and hot and _ohsogood_ when Jason finally strokes back down, granting Roy all the shuddering sensation he can _take_. His fist is welcomely slick against the neglected length, gliding easily through the mess Roy's making on himself, a whimper bubbling up in his throat. 

He opens his mouth to ask for more and snaps it shut a moment later with a moan when Jason starts doing _more_ without him even asking, fully tuned into Roy's reactions and noises and the desperate, needy jerk of his hips. His hand is fast, _tight_ , and so damn good Roy feels like he's coming apart at the seams with just that alone, suddenly so much after so little, so _slow_. He presses his forehead to his hands on the pole and pants Jason's name on every other breath, grinds back on the erection against his ass and moans aloud just thinking about all the filthy shit Jason does to him, wants to do to him, fuck, spelt out in the curve of his fingers and the fervent presses of his lips on Roy's neck. 

Jason does this neat little trick where he twists his wrist and skims his thumb over the tip, and it only takes a couple of those before Roy's thighs are trembling badly against Jason's, something hot and wanton coiling in his gut and threatening to sandblast him just from the slide of Jason's palm, from the hot panting on his pulse point, from the way Jason grinds eagerly against him. Jason breathes his name like praise, like it's all he can say, and Roy tenses up impossibly with the words, sucking in these little _ha-ah_ breaths and he can't even _warn_ Jason before - 

" _Jase_ , I - " 

He doesn't manage it. Jason's hand kicks up into a _blur_ and the sensation in Roy's gut tightens and snaps into an electric wash of pleasure, tingling through every single fucking muscle as he groans and comes, sticky over Jason's hand and messy on the floor and a sordid stripe of it on the fucking _pole_ , when he glances down, enthralled by the way he twitches visibly in Jason's fist. He shudders with the orgasm, at the juddery little aftershocks working their way through every inch of him. 

Jason doesn't _stop_. He slows, when Roy stops making a mess on his hand, and he gentles, when Roy's shoulders slump with a sigh, but he doesn't stop, wringing the remnants of one of the best orgasms of Roy's _life_ out of him with steady, easy strokes. It sort of smears come back onto himself, but Roy can't find it in himself to care. 

When Roy finally relaxes, and lets out some sort of dissenting noise, Jason stops and thoughtfully tucks him back into his underwear. Roy pulls his head away from the pole and looks in the mirror. He looks a _mess_ , flushed and sweaty and chest heaving - but even prettier is the picture Jason makes behind him. Jason's gaze flicks up to meet Roy's in the mirror. His mouth is open, huffing these soft little breaths against the nape of Roy's neck, and his hips press against Roy's ass in steady pulses, like he can't stop himself. Roy presses back, watches Jason's expression flicker in the mirror, and grins. 

This time, Jason doesn't stop him from letting go of the pole. Roy turns around to lean against it, his knees still shaky, and tugs Jason in until they're almost flush, grabbing at his waistband with one hand and using the other to drag him into a kiss. Jason _moans_ into it, a noise filled with promise and pleading and desperation all in one, and one of Roy's favourite noises to hear. 

His teeth leave indents in Jason's bottom lip, plush and pink and chapped in the middle from their recent missions. He soothes it with his tongue, shoves the sweats down unceremoniously, pauses to lick his palm before wrapping it around Jason. Fingers curl around his biceps, something needy in the groan Jason presses into his mouth, hips shifting in tantalising, alluring patterns Roy copies easily. Archer's agility and all, he's good with his wrists. 

Good enough for Jason at least, because he's thrusting into Roy's fist like he's desperate, like this is one of the times Roy's strung him out and pieced him back together - which is preferably with rope involved somewhere, and preferably on a _bed_ , but Roy'll take what he can get. A moan rattles in his chest - his or Jason's, he doesn't know - and Jason's teeth catch on his lip, hands slipping to Roy's sides, to his back - 

Roy slides a hand down to grab unashamedly at Jason's ass. He grins at the noise Jason makes, something caught between a laugh and a moan and morphing into neither, and squeezes deliberately, tugging Jason into each thrust. He tightens his fingers around Jason's cock, relishing the easy way Jason follows his hand, quick and smooth and exactly what he knows Jason likes. 

"Roy, _Roy_ , I'm gonna - " Jason murmurs, moans, plants a hand on the pole above Roy's head and stumbles on his next thrust, and _yeah_ , he's gonna. Roy breaks the kiss to shove up his shirt with one hand, cant his hips out, give himself some space. Jason holds his gaze for a moment before his face twists up and he drops his forehead to Roy's shoulder, huffing his name in short, hot little pants as Roy jacks him off, murmuring a heated _c'mon, c'mon, Jase, fuck, want you to_. 

Jason abruptly stills and shudders, a fine-trembling series of them, like he's tripping over himself. His gasp isn't muffled and nor is the moan, and Roy watches, wide-eyed and biting back a groan, as Jason comes over his stomach, drips like wax to pool equally sticky in his happy trail, stark white against muted red. 

Roy keeps his hand lazy like Jason did for him, transfixed at the sight of Jason idly fucking his fist, until Jason lifts his head and kisses him, soft and indulgent and short-circuiting Roy's brain right where he stands. He murmurs a happy noise into it and brings his hand up to sink into Jason's hair, uncaring of the way his shirt slides back down and sticks to the mess on his abdomen. It's a problem for ten-minutes-from-now-Roy. 

Actually, everything is for ten-minutes-for-now-Roy, because once he tucks Jason back in, they slide clumsily down to the floor for Jason to straddle his lap and keep kissing him, cupping Roy's jaw in a careful hand as the other tangles stickily with Roy's also sticky hand. 

"Disgusting," Roy deadpans, and giggles when Jason just slots their fingers together and wiggles them for effect. A very sticky effect. 

"So did you actually _want_ to learn how to climb faster, or?" Jason raises an eyebrow. It would be intimidating if he wasn't still blushing. 

"I did," Roy admits. "I do actually - want to. But man, we _gotta_ get you looser fitting pants. You're way too distracting as it is." 

Jason sits back on his lap and grins. 

"So _I_ have to get different clothes so that _you_ won't ogle me in the field." 

"Yep." 

"This is because of the skylight, isn't it." 

"How about you stop poking holes in my desire to learn from you, O Wise One." 

"How about _you_ stop jumping my bones every two seconds, huh?" Jason clearly has more to say, but Roy shuts him up by kissing the grin off his face, readily curling his fingers into Jason's hair to tug him back. 

"Can't get anything done around here," Jason murmurs, and sinks into the kiss without another word. Perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at [halifax-jordan](https://halifax-jordan.tumblr.com) on Tumblr, come say hi!


End file.
